


lycoris radiata

by arsenouselation



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Gen, Horror, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-20 03:57:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2414132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arsenouselation/pseuds/arsenouselation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It has to end somewhere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lycoris radiata

**Author's Note:**

> This does not make sense. Nope. Written only to get it off my chest. May be subject to revisions.

lycoris radiata.

_« _by arsenous elation_ »_

* * *

Fingernails.

Kaneki's fingernails are bleeding (,) black against whitened fingers.

Underneath his tongue, he tastes his own tongue clotting in on itself, chewed on and marinating in his own blood.

Behind him, Rize breathes. Slow and metered, warm against his neck. Her hands soothe the agony (with wine, with love) until he is lulled into half-sleep.

Before the severing comes again.

_This is because you are weak._

Her laugh grates on his good ear as the doors to the room opens. Eternity repeats itself.

_Better start counting, little boy._

—

Yamori's hand almost slips. As recompense (as a consolation), he calls for Nico and plunges his hand through the gut.

Nico looks at Kaneki, sees him watching. He stretches his mouth in a smile, his eyes telling, honest: _he will not allow you to die, Kaneki-kun._

And Kaneki stares at him. Stares as laughter starts to bubble up in his throat, boiling. Truly, life's greatest joke is played on everyone.

No exceptions.

Somewhere in his left ear, an itch.

—

Once more.

For a small second, looking at the boy's reflection in his own blood is like looking at the mirror. Sometimes, Yamori finds his old self in that mirror, fearful and trembling. Missing a limb or two. Methodically, he snaps off Kaneki's pinky toe. Sometimes it is Rize's beautiful face, crushed in.

Once more.

He pauses mid-cut and thinks. _In this, who am I?_

_The one in pain, or the one inflicting it?_

Yamori turns to Kaneki and _there._

Sees a small glimpse, a lightning flash of memory. Phantom pains running up his back, gone in a second.

Yamori sighs. Once more.

—

Rize waits for the hairline fracture. She hangs in the shadows of the room, like a true pragmatist, a patient spider to its prey. Sooner or later, Kaneki will call. Will cease to forgive.

A little more.

The door opens (for the last time). Rize sees Kaneki stop breathing. Yamori stands before Kaneki, hands barely restraining themselves.

"Kaneki."

Rize stand up, sighs in relief, dusts her pretty skirt off. It is time.


End file.
